Moment of Awakening
by Leonaria Dragonbane
Summary: Victor's laying low in his old cabin in the wilderness.  A plume of smoke from a nearby cabin brings him to a realization that he isn't the worst monster in the world.  Can he save a young woman and her two children from something worse than him.
1. Chapter 1

He looked through the binoculars at the old hunting cabin nestled in a clearing about ten miles from where his own cabin stood. He thought he'd been mistaken when he saw smoke from the chimneys this morning, but no, someone was staying at the old Hanson place.

He had a pretty good idea who, as he watched a young frail step out on the back porch, a cub resting on one hip, another barely steady on its feet clinging to her free hand. Had to be the granddaughter, Ciarra. Victor remembered the only time he'd met her, she wasn't much bigger than the cub trying to walk at her side now. He'd smelled a mutation then, told her parents and grandfather.

He had a letter, maybe eight years old, from the old man, asking him to watch the place, watch it closely if she showed up, protect her. Victor would have done it without asking. The Old Man was one of the few he called friend, and his family into perpetuity fell into the 'almost family' category of those under his protection.

He watched her with the cubs. She kept looking over her shoulder, jumping at every noise. He let out a low growl, something was wrong. He thought about that letter, the wording of it. "If Ciarra shows up, look after her. If she is in trouble, take care of her, protect her. If it's bad, do whatever you have to do to save my girl, even if she fights you. I trust you to keep her safe, cared for, and eventually happy for the rest of her life if it comes to that. She's all I've got, and I trust her and give her to you to keep and protect."

According to the letter, and his instincts, she belonged to him now. But he needed to find out what her problem was to fix it. He grabbed his leather trench from the peg just inside the door of his own cabin.

XXXXXXXXX

Ciarra caught the glint out of the corner of her eye. She caught it again and picked up the babies and went back inside the cabin and locked the doors. She had no idea who might be watching her, but she wasn't taking any chances. She looked around the sparse interior of the cabin. It was a simple two room building with only a front and rear door. There was a small addition between the kitchen and the only bedroom, a small bathroom that ran off the well. The pump for the kitchen sink ran off the same well. There was an old hide-a-bed in the living room in front of the fire place. She was sleeping on it. Mari was sleeping on the day-bed in the bedroom and Kiana was in the port-a-crib that Emma gave her when they crossed the Canadian border.

She quickly locked both doors and put the girls in the bedroom to play. Mari found the bag of Duplos and seemed content for the moment. Kiana played in the crib.

She found her grandfather's gun, and loaded it. If it was Steve he was going to finally understand she wasn't going to take it any more. If it was someone he'd hired to get her and the girls back, well she wasn't going to let that happen either.

She waited twenty minutes, then, still carrying the gun went to the kitchen to fix a meager lunch. She was going to have to drive the fifty miles into town to get some supplies, but she was putting it off as long as she could. There was enough food for the girls for several days and it wouldn't hurt her to go hungry until she thought it was safe.

She'd just cleaned up the girls from their lunch when she heard steps on the old porch. The loud knock didn't startle her as much as it might have. She cautiously opened the door a crack. The man on the porch was intimidating, tall, wearing a black leather trench coat over a black tee and black cargo pants. His hair was long, pulled back, blonde on the ends as if he spent most of his time out doors. The tail was pulled over his shoulder and she could tell it had a lot of natural curl. His eyes were a hard steel grey, and his old fashioned sideburns were so thick they almost made a beard.

"Can I help you?" She asked through the crack in the door.

"You're Ciarra Hanson, right?" His voice was deep and gravely as if from little use, but she heard laughter in it as well.

"Ciarra Tyler now." She couldn't keep the disgust from her voice at her last name.

"I'm your neighbor, and I hold a trapping lease on this place." She opened the door just a little more. He moved so fast she just fell back as he pushed the door open. She brought the gun up and pointed it at him from her spot on the floor. He stood there and laughed.

"Damn, frail, I'll admit ya tool me by surprise there, didn't expect the gun." He held out a hand with long claw-like nails to help her to her feet. "Somethin's got ya jumpier than a rabbit in a coyote's den."

"You're Victor Creed, the guy who looked after the place for Papaw?" She asked climbing awkwardly to her feet while keeping the gun trained on him.

"Yes ma'am." He was leaning against the door jam as she dusted herself off with one hand. She looked sheepishly at the gun, and leaned it against the wall.

"Sorry about that..." She started.

"Probably a good idea." He pushed off the door with a shoulder and filled the room. She stepped back and allowed him in. Somehow she didn't think her Papaw's old 410 was going to do her any good.

"Two girls, huh?" He asked glancing into the bedroom. "Where's their father?"

"Not here." She heard the hate in her own voice and knew he'd catch it. "I left him."

"He what's got ya jumpin?" He was going through the kitchen shelves now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Frail, I don't give a shit if you want to, you're gonna." He growled at her. "The Old Man told me ta take care of you if you came up here, and that's what I'm gonna do, but I need ta know what I'm takin care of." This time he was digging in the refrigerator.

"It's not any of your business, I can take care of me and the girls." She said, with more bravado than she really felt. He was bigger than Steve, but somehow she was far less afraid of the man in her kitchen.

He just glared at her, grabbed one of the old dining chairs, twirled it on one leg until the back was to the table and straddled it. He pulled a dirty scrap of paper out of the pocket of his coat, and a short pencil with a ragged eraser.

"Food. Cleaning supplies. Decent bedding. Kid stuff. Firewood. Roof needs fixed over the kitchen. Rat bait. Refill propane tank." He said each item as he wrote it down. She cringed. She had a small amount of cash Emma had given her, or what was left of it.

"I know there's problems with the place, I'll fix it up as I can." She said, defiantly.

"Shut up, Frail." He snarled. He got up and started for the door. "Start talkin."

"You really know how to confuse a girl." She grumbled. His sudden roaring laughter startled her. His sudden swing, catching her around her middle and dumping her, gently, on the couch startled her more.

"Feisty. I like that." He growled as he leaned over her, pinning her in place. "Start talkin, I'm not sayin it again."

"I really don't know..." He ran one of his clawed fingers down her cheek, the strange caress was her undoing. No one had touched her, not with any concern or gentleness since her parents died. She couldn't stop the tears.

"AH. SHIT!" He growled. She heard him pacing, muttering under his breath. "...stupid frails and their stupid waterworks...don't solve anything...fuck, I don't need this shit..." Finally he turned back to her. "Ciarra, shut it off, we need ta talk, ta think, not sit and boohoo about it." He roared.

She hiccupped and looked up at him. "You don't have to do anything..." She started.

"BULLSHIT! The Old Man told me ta take care of you, made me promise, and I always keep my word so just tell me who the fuck I have to kill so this shit will stop."

Somehow she didn't think it was a figure of speech. She tried to remember anything her grandfather told her about his grumpy neighbor. The only thing that stuck in her mind was a warning, when she was a kid, about 'staying close to the cabin, Victor didn't like kids much.'

She suddenly wanted to tell someone about the hell she'd been living in the last year.

"I met Steve when I was sixteen; right after Mom and Dad died in the crash. Papaw died the year before and I really didn't have anyone else in town to look after me. The state took everything, locked it up in a trust fund that I couldn't touch until I was twenty-one. They put me in a foster home, but that didn't go so well. I ran away and got a job at a little diner, waiting tables. I slept in back until I could save enough money to rent a shithole apartment." He just glared, then walked to the table and grabbed the chair he'd sat in to make his list. He carried it over to the fireplace and sat down.

"Steve came into the diner one day, just out of college. Engineering, got a job with one of the companies in town. He was nice. Big tipper. Came in for two years, always sat in my section. I never had time to date, but he kept asking. He'd order dinner for two and have me take my breaks with him as a date. One day, he started asking me to marry him, after I graduated. I kept saying I didn't think it was a good idea, but he didn't give up. I was working on the grill in back when it happened, I burned my hand, and it healed right up. The owner was there and he had a fit. Katie, the manager didn't want to fire me but he gave her no other option. Suddenly marrying a nice guy looked like an option."

"You were eighteen?"

"Yeah, one week before school finished. We got married that summer. Steve kept promising me we'd save for college and I could go, but then I got pregnant with Mari and that had to wait. I was nineteen when she was born, and started planning for college again, looking for a nanny. Steve was making good money at work so it wasn't something that would have been hard for us to do. Three months later I was pregnant with Kiana."

"He wasn't using protection? What about the pill?" He was growling again.

"We were using protection, condoms, and the pill doesn't work on me, my mutation I guess. I heal, most meds won't work on me." He just nodded. "After she was born, that's when things changed. Suddenly I couldn't do anything right. It was my fault she was a girl when he wanted a boy. That's when he started hitting me. No one believed me because of my mutation. I wasn't allowed to drive, I couldn't leave the house without him. Then his parents showed up. They never even looked at, or spoke to me, and the girls, they ignored them completely."

She shuddered remembering the cold way her mother-in-law had looked at her and the girls, weighing them as if to see how much they were worth.

"His mother took Kiana and I to her three month checkup. While I was gone, he and his dad did some remodeling to our bedroom. When I got home, his parents packed up and left. That night, I realized just how sick he really was. He wanted me for my mutation...so he could do things that would kill someone else, and get away with them. He tied me up, hung me by a hook he'd installed in the ceiling, my ankles were tied to two D rings he'd installed in the floor. I'd always wondered why he'd wanted tile for the bedroom, and when he picked up the fake tile and exposed the drain in the floor I knew I was in trouble."

"Sounds a little elaborate, if you ask me." Victor said with a shrug. "Sounds like the bed would have been easier."

"He'd have had to buy a new mattress every night if he did that." She said simply. Victor glared, but gestured her to continue.

"Steve pulled out a knife, and started cutting, right below my sternum and all the way down to my hip bone. He'd hold the skin separated so it couldn't heal. When he finally had me cut open he used some kind of clamp to pin my skin open." She could feel the tears in her eyes as she relived the pain again, just because she healed didn't mean she didn't feel the pain, or the pain of the healing as it tried to work but couldn't. "He poked around in my insides. He cut something out, an ovary I think, and yelled that when the new one grew back he'd get his son. He sat there watching, stroking himself with blood soaked hands, until he thought I'd healed. Then he raped me."

She watched as he forced back a gag. The big bad trapper was disgusted by what she was.

"He let me down, unclamped my skin and told me to clean up the mess before I came to bed." She shuddered, remembering having to wipe her own blood off the floor. "He did this every night for months. After a while he got bored with it, and started doing other things. He'd cut out organs and cut pieces off of them, and eat them, or force me to."

"Enough." Victor roared. "Where is the bastard. I want to rip his guts out."

"Wisconsin. He can't come to Canada, that's why we ran here. He's got warrants out for his arrest up here, under a different name, for rape and murder when he was a teenager. I didn't find out until after I left."

"How'd you escape?"

"He had an out of town job, and all the pain got the attention of one of my friends from before my parents died, Emma Frost. She set up a power outage so the cameras he set up in the house wouldn't work, and helped me get the girls across the border."

"Frost is a bitch, but for once, I owe her something." Victor muttered. "How'd you meet her?"

"I ran away from home when my mutation started developing. Ended up at Salem...Emma and Betsy saved my sanity, and my life."

"Why'd she wait so long to get you out?"

"She didn't. She hadn't contacted me for several months before he started, and when he started looking at the girls, and I could tell he was thinking they might be like me, I reached out to her. He couldn't stop a telepath from reaching me, or me reaching for her."

"Good call."

"I just want to raise the girls in peace, away from him and his parents." She said softly.

"You will." He stood up, and put the chair back next to the table. "I'm going into town to get some supplies. If he can't come across the border, or is afraid to, that gives ya time."

"Time for what?"

"A divorce, for one. Custody for another. I don't suppose you have any evidence to back any of this up?"

"I grabbed his back up tapes from the security cameras. I don't know what's on them" She said.

"I'll get those later. Right now, you need food for you and the cubs." He turned and walked out the door. "Lock it behind me, and keep the gun loaded. Won't keep me out but probably anyone else it will."

XXXXXXXXXXX

He stopped on the way to his truck, but out of sight of the cabin and bent over, the contents of his stomach finally, violently, leaving his body. He'd never heard of anything quite that depraved, and he was an expert. Hell her soon to be ex-husband, soon to be dead ex-husband, could teach him a thing or two about torture.


	2. Chapter 2

Moment of Awakening 2

She couldn't believe the stream of people that started arriving that afternoon. First the propane people to fill the cabin's tank, which wasn't even hooked up; an extra charge, but according to them, the account was paid in full. She didn't have time to do more than wonder at the actual gas stove working in the kitchen, when the roofers arrived with shingles and roofing materials. All the pounding woke the girls from their nap and she had to try to calm them down.

The roof had to be replaced, not just over the kitchen, but again when she asked about cost, they said it was already paid for. Next was a truck with a couple of guys who offloaded about 6 ricks of firewood off a flatbed truck, one in each of the holders on the front and back porches, and the rest stacked neatly within walking distance if those ran out.

A plumber was next, to test the water, and then install a real water heater for the bathroom and kitchen. He ended up having to lay lines under the floor, but since it was just plank, he laughed and went right to work, something about glad it wasn't a concrete foundation. She stopped asking about how much it was going to cost when he looked at her.

"Kid, you have a fairy god father, now shut the hell up and let me get to work."

She shrugged and curled up on the old hide-a-bed in the front room while all the work went on. The sun was going down when she heard another truck pull up. The plumber was just finishing the kitchen sink and packing up his tools. She groaned. Not another workman to make noise and keep the kids awake; she'd just gotten Mari settled down and playing quietly, and Kiana was finishing her bottle. The roofers finished ten minutes ago and were still loading their truck. Not that she minded, the cabin was warmer with the insulating shingles they put on.

What surprised her was the woman that walked through the door. She was dressed in a pair of casual jeans, but with a denim jacket that was more suit jacket than casual, a silk blouse underneath, and high heeled boots.

"Well, this certainly is much better than you described." She said as Victor walked in the door behind her. "At this point, unless the children are severely under nourished or covered in bruises, my report should be easy."

"Jonesey, just get the report done and get the hell out. The kid needs as much of a break as we can give her." Victor growled, he was carrying large bags in either hand. "Kid, ya just gonna sit there, or help me unload the truck. Jonesey needs time with the cubs anyway."

"Who are you?" Ciarra asked the woman, ignoring Victor's barked order.

"Kimberly Jones, otherwise known as Jonesey. I work for Child Protective Services, and Victor told me what happened to you with your husband. I can help you set up a divorce, and if you have any evidence of the abuse, we can hit him with a Protective Order that will keep him away from the kids for life." She was holding out a hand.

"Wait a minute...I didn't want any authorities involved. If you file orders, he'll know where to find me." Ciarra felt herself start to panic.

"No, he won't, not from my office anyway. I file everything from the Provincial office, nothing will reference the town or area of the province you're in. I would recommend opening a mail box downtown Saskatoon, that way everything is run out of there, and you won't have to worry about mail delivery up here."

"I don't know..." Ciarra glared at Victor. He just shrugged as he dropped the first load of bags in the girls' room and walked back out the door.

"It is alright. Victor said you had some tapes you took from the house, surveillance tapes?" Jonesey asked.

"Yes." Ciarra carried Kiana into the bedroom and put her down in the port-a-crib. Mari was in a playpen in the living room. She opened the trash bag she'd thrown everything in when she left the house and pulled out two handfuls of tapes.

"That's what I grabbed." She handed them to the woman.

"I'll get these put on disk and we'll see what's there to use." Jonesey said, suddenly pulling Ciarra into a tight hug. "Trust me, and Victor. He won't let anything happen to you or these girls, or I'll kick him into next week."

Ciarra laughed a little at that, and the glare Jonesey gave Victor as he walked into the door. Victor just responded with a threatening growl, which Jonesey just ignored and laughed.

"Don't worry, Victor and I go way back. Don't we?" This time there was a hard tone in the woman's voice, one that said she meant business.

"Sure do, Jonesey." He said, but Ciarra could hear a tense undertone in his voice.

"Just so we understand, there will be no repeats of past history." Jonesey said, the hard tone still in her voice. "Am I understood?"

"Damn it woman, get your intake visit over with so I can get back ta my cabin before dark. Shit, I told ya over and over, I don't shit where I eat." He growled at her.

"You did once."

"Yeah, thirty years ago, now let it rest, shit you ain't dead." He growled back.

Jonesey turned to Ciarra. "Just don't let him get away with anything. If you have any problems I will be checking on you daily for the next three months or so, and don't even get huffy about it, part of my job. Right now, the cabin is well insulated, there's plenty of food out in Victor's truck to get you through the coming storm. If I can't get up here in person, I'll have the sheriff drop by to do a wellness check. He's a pussy cat, unlike this randy tom here." She said, this time teasingly.

"I don't understand." Ciarra said, confusion being the rule of the day, not the exception.

"It's okay, honey. You're in good hands. Your grandpa was a fixture around these parts, and as soon as Victor told us you were here, and needed help, the whole town's pitching in. You are the girls are as safe as you can possibly be, well unless we had a whole squad of Mounties surrounding the cabin, and even then I'd take Victor as a bodyguard over a squad of Mounties."

Ciarra stood there stunned, as Jonesey poked through the cabin, ignoring the loaded 410 leaning against the wall next to the door. She checked the water heater, and the stove. She nodded approval at the new heavy iron screen Victor set up in front of the fire in the fireplace. While the woman poked around, Victor kept bringing in bags, and glared at the two women.

"I'm not a fucking beast of burden, a little help here, frails." he growled.

"In a minute. It's not like you will get tired or anything, shit." Jonesey growled back. Ciarra laughed. Victor was intimidating, but this woman kept making a point that he was on some kind of short leash.

"Alright, sweetie, you seem to have everything under control here for a few weeks. I'll bring the attorney we have for expedited divorce cases up next week, after I've had a chance to review these tapes. Victor just told me you were abused, so I have no idea what's on these, and don't warn me. Shock value goes a long way and if there's anything good on these, we'll need to have that to get a judge to go along with it. I don't see a problem, and we'll see what we can do about that warrant you said was out on him too. If we can get him in jail, that will be even better."

Jonesey swept out of the cabin and Ciarra heard an engine start. The whole day had been a whirlwind, and evidently wasn't done yet. While they'd been talking, the kitchen counters and table were piled high with bags, as was the main room.

"What is all of this?" She asked.

"Food. Kid stuff. Clothes. Bad storm's acomin, you needed shit to get through it. You can't keep sleepin on that old hide-a-bed, I got two real beds for the cubs, I'll get those set up tomorrow, also a new mattress for the daybed so you can sleep on a real bed. I didn't know what size cub pants ta buy so I just picked up what they had. Should get ya through."

"Why'd you get CPS involved?" She asked.

"Well, when I went ta the roofing company ta get them out here ta fix the roof, Jonesey was there, heard The Old Man's granddaughter was her, and started pesterin' me about it, so I told her the basics. She insisted on gettin' involved and frankly, where that woman's concerned its better ta just let her, than fight. She helped me get all the shit done that needed doin' so the cubs would be okay up here, hell she picked out half the shit I bought."

"Great, a busybody. Just what I needed." Ciarra muttered.

"No, you don't get it. Jonesey, well lets just say we've got a past. The Old Man helped her get through some shit, and we've been friendly ever since. He's the one that taught me not ta shit where I eat."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I guess for you, it means you're safer here than anywhere in the world." She shook her head. She tried as he unloaded the bags, but just couldn't get anymore out of him. He wore an air of danger around him, but more as a defense than anything else. Somehow she knew there was far more to this than met the eye.

She shrugged her shoulders and started putting away the food in the kitchen. She heard an engine start and relaxed. Her shoulders were killing her, from the tension.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He moved the truck behind the woodpiles. He didn't want anyone to see it if they came up the old logging road that led to the cabin. Jonesey was right. She was safer with him as her bodyguard. He'd sit out here tonight, make sure no one was lurking around. Tomorrow he'd check his traps and go up to his cabin. He'd gone there first, done a quick internet search for information about her husband, the trust, the deaths of her parents and grandfather. He had a few feelers out to some of his contacts, and had even contacted Salem.

Emma had not been pleased to hear from him, but he really didn't give a shit. She did confirm helping Ciarra get away, and that she'd been watching the situation closely, and took the first opportunity she had to get Ciarra and the cubs out. He'd chewed the ice bitch a new one for waiting so long, and it had taken twenty minutes to wake up after the damned bitch knocked him out. At least they understood each other. Emma was to stay the fuck away and let him handle this from now on, and he was to be polite when he called her. Yep they understood each other, for now.

The other problem he had was Toad. Evidently the prick was looking for muscle to force Ciarra and the cubs back home, and he'd hired Mortimer to get her. That was why he was going to stay overnight. He didn't want Toad showing up here without him present. Toad needed to know the score, and the measly hundred grand the prick was paying to recover his wife and cubs wasn't worth the green-boy's hide. He'd take care of frog boy, hell maybe even get him to help protect her and the cubs.

Jonesey was another issue he wasn't thrilled about. Thirty years ago he'd not even cared that the damned town was where he had to buy supplies and shit. She'd been a hot little teenager and he'd been horney. He hadn't planned to leave her alive, hell he thought she was dead when he heard the noise that startled him and drove him off. She'd been a decent fuck, for a cub, but not worth the pain in his ass now. She was the reason he didn't leave any loose ends. Not that he minded too much now, she was useful, and realized that he was mostly an animal, it wasn't personal.

That part surprised him, but then again, The Old Man had been able to get the whole damned town to accept him, as he was, with the agreement that he didn't hunt, didn't scratch his itches in town. This was the only place he could disappear, shut out the world and just exist for a while, and the whole damned town protected him. A bar fight every now and then didn't count, and everyone knew it. He kept his claws in, and fought not too dirty, and they didn't do dumb shit, and everyone survived and had a beer when it was over.

All and all, he liked his peaceful life here in the hinterlands. Sure he had to work, sometimes he was gone for years at a time, but this was home and he missed it when he was away. The only thing that would make it perfect would be Jimmy. He missed the damned Runt sometimes. Missed having someone to talk to, remind him he wasn't just another animal in the forest. Now, with the letter from The Old Man, he had someone else, but damn it. CUBS!


	3. Chapter 3

Ciarra glared at the two men in the living room. Victor was bad enough, but the other guy made her skin crawl. That could be because of his looks, his hair was a dark algae green color and looked just as slimy, his skin had a green cast to it, not a 'I'm going to be sick' green but more of a pine green, his eyes were pitch black and when he talked she couldn't help noticing the sharp, narrow tongue. The other reason could be that he'd taken money from Steve to force her to go back home with the girls.

"Na, Creed, you're right, not worth tha pittance ta go back. 'Sides, Wanda's supposed ta be 'round these parts. I may go look her up." Toad was saying.

"You're never gonna learn." Victor grumbled. He wasn't very happy with her right now. She'd found him in the truck last night and insisted he come in out of the cold, now they were all stuck. There was at least five inches of snow on the ground and the radio, before they lost reception, said they were expecting at least three feet before the storm was over.

The two men had decided they were staying for the duration of the storm and nothing Ciarra could say was changing their minds. Victor had changed the mattress on the day-bed and set up a second crib in the bedroom with the girls so she didn't have to sleep with Mari, but she didn't like the idea of them sleeping in the living room with no door between the two rooms.

"You can take the couch, Warts." Victor said. "I'll take the old mattress on the floor." Ciarra was about to scream.

"Victor, can I have a word with you?" He just glared at her.

"What, Cub?"

She glared at Mortimer for a second, but Victor didn't get the hint. Finally she burst out.

"I didn't invite you two to stay, I am perfectly capable of taking care of me and the girls, and I don't need or really want to deal with men right now."

The stunned look on their faces was priceless, but the outburst of laughter that followed just made her even more angry.

"Men, did you hear that, she called us mmmenn." Toad was laughing so hard he fell off the couch.

"Well, fine, if you're going to make fun of me, cook your own damned dinner." She grabbed the bottle and sippy cup and stormed into the bedroom. Not having a door to slam ruined the effect.

XXXXXXXX

He stopped laughing as she stormed off to the bedroom. He wasn't sure if he should be complimented that she saw them as men not monsters, or insulted that she put them in the same category as her soon-to-be ex-husband. He glared at Toad, who stopped laughing.

"Is she really mad, I mean she is worth one hundred thousand dollars ta return ta him." Mort said.

"I think she was insulted by the amount." Victor said half lightheartedly.

The sudden smell of fear, and tears, along with the muffled sob made him get up and walk to the opening of the bedroom.

"What the hell is it, Ciarra?" He growled.

"I don't want you here, I really don't want him here. I'm scared, I've been through hell and the last thing I need is to entertain the damned gun for hire that took my husband's money to return me and the girls." He was surprised she was able to get it all out without breaking down.

He walked over to the day-bed and put one arm around her, pulling her roughly against his chest.

"Kid, one day you're going to figure out, I keep my word. Your grandfather made me promise to protect you, and if that means keeping Toad where I can see him and have some control over the situation, I'm gonna do that. I'd rather have him here, the devil I know, and can keep from doing something stupid, than have him running around out there, where I can't control the situation."

She looked up at him and nodded. She really could be reasonable, when she let go of the fear. For the first time in his life, he actually understood someone else's fear. Her soon to be ex-husband was not someone to trifle with, at least right now, when he was unpredictable.

His sources had found out that the man's parents were moving through both the US and Canada, searching for Ciarra and the girls. He'd done a background check on all three of them, the arrest warrant for Steve was still valid and the case was still considered unsolved as long as he remained at large. His parents were just about as bad, but they used money to cover up their laundry list of abuse complaints.

He realized he'd been stroking her hair, and the light snore told him she'd fallen asleep. He helped her settle on the new mattress, slipped off her shoes, and covered her with a blanket. Mari looked at him out of the new crib, and closed her eyes. Kiara was already asleep, but he adjusted her blankets and made sure she was in the middle of the old port-a-crib.

He didn't want Jonesey giving him hell about taking care of the kids. Sometimes he regretted letting that damned frail live, she'd been a thorn in his side since. He felt a smile on his face. He also liked the spirit she had, the pure guts, to not only get back on her feet after a run in with him, but to actually seek him out and make friends. She would be safe the rest of her life, just because she'd dared the impossible.

He looked over at Ciarra, who'd rolled onto one side, and taken half the blanket with her. He adjusted the blankets again. This was a cub that needed help, and healing, and if anyone could do both, it was Jonesey. He just hoped to hell, when the busy body found out his plans, she'd be smart and stay out of it.

The frail was his, lock, stock, and approved by her grandfather, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Jonesey stop him from claiming what belonged to him when this shit with her soon to be ex-husband was over. It was the best way to protect her, and the cubs, and he was starting to like the frail, not just in a drag her off to the nearest cave and fuck her brains out kind of way, because, despite all outward appearances, he was definitely looking for that cave, but because she had guts, and gumption, and determination to protect her cubs.

This was a frail that could be his mate, that could bear him cubs of his own. Hell he was even getting attached to her cubs, something he'd never done in his entire life, with the exception of Jimmy.


End file.
